


Georgiana

by litteraries (mysoulrunswithwolves)



Series: The Hundred-aching Woods [3]
Category: Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen, Winnie-the-Pooh - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, F/M, I'm so sorry, M/M, Other, i don't know what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 17:21:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14360073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysoulrunswithwolves/pseuds/litteraries
Summary: don't @ me i'm fragile





	Georgiana

“Nobody panic,” Darcy says to the room at large, looking panicked. Nobody in the room looks anywhere remotely close to panicking except for Darcy.

Lizzie gives him an incredulous look. “I can’t believe you managed to fuck even _this_ up.”

***

 _A lil birdie told me smthn interesting,_ Lizzie texts him one night, when she’s supposed to be running his bar.

 _Aren’t you supposed to be working?_ Darcy responds, trying to shift into a more comfortable position on the couch without jostling Eeyore, who is asleep with his head in Darcy’s lap.

 _It’s ded here,_ Lizzie replies, within seconds of Darcy sending his response, then, _I heard ur bf’s birthday is in two weeks._

Well, that’s news to Darcy. Then again, Eeyore isn’t prone to talking about himself excessively.

 _Oh really?_ He sends. _I’ll have to throw him a party then._

 _Don’t fuck it up,_ is Lizzie’s encouraging response, followed up with a purple heart emoji.

Darcy sends his customary grey ghost emoji and tosses his phone onto the floor. He runs his fingers gently through Eeyore’s hair while he plans, his mind already spinning.

He has a lot to do.

***

Georgiana Darcy is not expecting anything about the aesthetic of Hundred-acre Wood coffee to appeal to her. It’s a charming shop, the front door framed by ivy that’s slowly crawling up the face of the building and a generally welcoming aura. The interior is a strange mix of tables and chairs made from artisan wood and beanbags. None of that appeals to her, but what _does_ is the very hot barista at the counter, smiling warmly at her.

“Welcome to the Hundred-acre Wood. What can I make for you today?”

“Hi,” Georgiana says hesitantly, at once overwhelmed and intrigued by the man. “I’m actually not here for coffee?” She isn’t. She’s here to get a list of Eeyore’s friends from Lizzie’s girlfriend so they can invite his friends to the ill-advised party Darcy wants to throw for Eeyore’s birthday. “Is Kanga in?”

The barista frowns. As she steps closer she can see the name Tigger messily scrawled on a nametag pinned to his apron. She also becomes aware of handsome sharp features, sun-bronzed skin, and a smattering of freckles that are frankly _devastating._

“She isn’t,” Tigger says with a frown. “She went to pick up her son from school. I’m just filling in until she gets back. Is there something I can help you with…?”

“Georgiana,” she supplies, because she _needs_ him to know her name and he _did_ leave an opening.

“Tigger,” he says, leaning his elbows on the counter separating them.

She gets a little lost in the warmth of his brown eyes for a moment before remembering why she was there. “I need a list of Eeyore’s friends?”

Tigger smiles at her, and it’s so roguishly charming that Georgiana has to employ the famous Darcy Self-control to keep from blushing. “What are you willing to give me for this information?”

Georgiana’s brain short circuits as a dozen inappropriate suggestions pop _immediately_ into her mind, most of which would have Darcy appalled if she ever said them out loud.

“Tell you what,” Tigger suggests before she can embarrass herself. “I’ll give you the list if you agree to go to dinner with me sometime.”

Georgiana leans on the counter, close enough that she catches a whiff of his cologne. He smells like mountain air and sunshine. “Counter offer: you give me the list of his friends and we’ll discuss the likelihood of dinner at the party.”

Unlike Darcy, Georgiana likes to get to know the people she dates before falling into bed with them. She loves her brother, but the entire Wickham situation could have been avoided if he’d simply _talked_ with Wickham for five minutes before he jumped into a relationship.

Tigger winks. “I think that can be arranged.”

Georgiana gets the sudden feeling that she’s already in too deep.  

***

Some of Eeyore’s friends are…strange.

It’s not something Lizzie notices immediately. In truth, she’s far too busy laughing at Darcy as he tries to organize everything about this party as the guests begin to arrive. But once the rather spacious main area of his flat is full of people, Lizzie begins to look around the room more than laugh at Darcy.

The first thing she notices, actually, is her sister Jane, who is talking to a few people with their backs to Lizzie. Jane has her ‘how the fuck do I get out of this’ look on her face, which to anyone that doesn’t know here like Lizzie does, just looks like a slightly strained version of her normal polite smile.

It’s definitely because Lizzie is a good sister that she goes over to rescue poor, sweet Jane. It certainly has nothing to do with proving to Darcy that she _is,_ in fact, a nice person.

The moment she’s within arm’s reach, Jane latches onto her forearm with a viselike grip so strong that it makes Elizabeth gain a new respect for Bingley. “Allow me to introduce you to my sister, Elizabeth,” Jane says, an edge of desperation in her normally even voice.

“Lizzie,” she corrects, finally turning her attention to the people talking with Jane. One of them is a thin, professor-like person in an honest-to-God _tweed_ blazer and round, tortoiseshell specs. He blinks at Lizzie in a distinctly owl-like way.

“Lizzie, this is Professor Hibou and his…companion, Pen.” Jane gets this hilarious, pinched expression on her face as she introduces them. “I believe Eeyore is friends with Pen, and they brought Professor Hibou along.”

Pen nods serenely.

“Please,” Professor Hibou interjects, “Call me Winston.” He runs a hand through his messy mop of brown hair, somehow managing to make it stick up in three places.

Lizzie can now understand Jane’s tourniquet-like grip on her arm. “What are you a professor of?” Lizzie asks, attempting to take some pressure off Jane.

“Philosophy,” Winston supplies, taking a drink of whatever shitty alcohol Darcy has decided to serve.

“How did the two of you meet?” Lizzie asks, trying to figure out how someone like Winston—who is handsome in an average, pedantic way—managed to attract someone like Pen, who could be Tilda Swinton’s child. Pen has the build and features of a fairy, with their soft bubblegum pink hair styled into the kind of hi-low pixie cut only models can pull off.  

“He’s my sugar daddy,” Pen says, completely straight faced, and Jane makes a sound akin to a dying cat next to Lizzie.

“Oh?” Lizzie replies, very much trying not to sound completely blindsided. “And how did you come to that arrangement?” She cringes internally at how awkward her phrasing is.

“Professor Hibou!”

Lizzie is saved from her own awkwardness by Georgiana’s very opportune arrival.

“Ah, Ms. Darcy, how are you?” Winston turns a sort of begin smile on Georgiana, which is the least affected Lizzie has seen _any_ man behave around Georgiana. Then again, most men don’t have someone like Pen with them, either.

“I’m sorry, Gigi how do you know Professor Hibou?” Lizzie asks once Georgiana has finished greeting Winston.

Georgiana beams. “He was my _favorite_ professor last semester.” She pauses for a moment. “Actually, there were very few people in his lectures, but I found them fascinating.” She turns to Pen. “You were always there, though! I remember seeing you, are you friends with Eeyore?”

Pen looks momentarily overwhelmed, which is understandable when one is suddenly dealing with a member of the Darcy family, before they answer. “We work together.” Pen very clearly avoids the remark about their being in lectures with Georgiana.

Lizzie realizes, at that moment, that Jane has, at some point during this conversation, slipped quietly away. She momentarily looks around for some form of alcohol, finally spotting some on Darcy’s kitchen bar. She excuses herself to get a drink, and then returns to the conversation once she has a drink in her hand.

“Ah, yes,” Winston sighs, just as she’s rejoining them. “My little Piglet here was my _best_ student.”

Lizzie promptly chokes on her drink because _what the hell._

Pen’s face goes from impassive to horrified in a split second.

Georgiana looks like she regrets joining this conversation.

“You still with ol’ Winston, Pen?” Asks a new voice, and Lizzie watches in morbid fascination as Pen manages to turn as pink as their hair while someone around Pen’s age comes and drapes themselves around Pen’s shoulders. “Hi, I’m Robbie, Pen’s best friend,” he says by way of introduction.

Winston looks torn between ripping Robbie away from Pen by the scruff of his neck and standing there in affronted shock over being called old.

“What are you _doing here?”_ Pen asks, elbowing Robbie in the stomach in an attempt to be free from him.

Robbie pouts and rubs where Pen elbowed him. “I had a class with Eeyore. We bonded over our hatred of philosophy and then spent the rest of the semester skipping lecture to get coffee instead.”

Lizzie no longer knows what the hell is happening and looks around because _surely_ Eeyore should be arriving soon. She quickly extricates herself from the conversation and sets off to find Darcy to make sure he hasn’t fucked anything up.

***

 _Gigi tells me u met tigger,_ Lizzie texts Darcy, just hours after he meets Tigger. Darcy blames Kanga entirely. _Isn’t he g8_

 _I hate him,_ Darcy sends back immediately, _and you’re a bad influence on Kanga. Also, stop talking about me behind my back._

He doesn’t see what on earth Georgiana likes about him, the tosser.

_Ur just mad bc hes hotter than u._

Darcy gapes at the message on his phone. Sure, he can acknowledge in a distant, removed part of his brain that Tigger is a good looking fellow if Tigger weren’t _visibly_ flirting with his younger sister when he’d met him.

 _That’s ridiculous,_ he sends back. Tigger can honestly go fuck himself with his perfect hair, bronze skin, and the kind of bone structure that would make Roudin cry, probably. Seriously, fuck him. There’s no way he’s better looking than Darcy.

_Sounds fake but ok_

_Damn it, Elizabeth._

Darcy really needs better friends.

***

In Lizzie’s long and frankly _terrifying_ friendship with Fitzwilliam Darcy, there are two universal truths that she can always count on Darcy following.

First, if anything Darcy is planning on doing can go wrong, it will.

Second, that Darcy will always take on more than he can handle, and that will inevitably lead to him fucking up something important, especially in regards to relationships.

Honestly, it’s a miracle Eeyore hasn’t broken up with him yet, especially after the fiasco involving one (1) rather nasty dog and a very inopportunely placed mariachi band.

Still, Lizzie is a _good_ friend (Darcy will tell anyone otherwise, but dammit she _is),_ and so when Darcy comes to her and says, “I’m going to throw Eeyore a surprise party for his birthday,” instead of saying, “Are you _quite_ sure,” she just smiles and says, “How can I help?”

Darcy gives her his rare, mega-white smile and asks, “Could you invite all of his friends?”

Lizzie sighs and leans against the counter. She’s currently supposed to be working at the bar _she_ runs but _Darcy_ owns, but Darcy never cares if she has work to do when he needs something from her. “I don’t know any of Eeyore’s friends.”

Darcy’s smile doesn’t dim in the slightest, which is incredibly unsettling. “Yes, but your girlfriend does.”

Lizzie gives him a flat stare. “You want me to have my _girlfriend_ invite people to the surprise party _you’re_ throwing for your boyfriend, who probably doesn’t even like parties.”

“Eeyore _loves_ parties,” Darcy insists, now looking mildly affronted, which is an expression Lizzie is much more comfortable dealing with.

Lizzie very much doubts that Eeyore loves parties, but it’s closing on two in the morning and she’s paid to run Darcy’s bar, not deal with his bullshit, so she doesn’t say anything. “I’ll see what I can do,” she sighs, straightening up and clearing several abandoned glasses around Darcy. No doubt Darcy had turned off her patrons with his general obnoxious aura of entitled bastard. She could be projecting.

Darcy has the audacity to give her a cheery wave and a, "Thank you _so_ much darling," before he saunters out the door.

He doesn't even glance back to see Lizzie flipping him off as he goes.

Bastard.

It isn't until she’s back in her flat and falling into bed that Lizzie is able to pull out her phone to text Kanga, and by then it's three in the morning and Kanga is an adult who lives by a normal schedule like a sane person, so she doesn't expect a response until the next morning.

 

When she wakes up at the perfectly reasonable time of eleven in the morning it's to four texts from Kanga, all of which are a variation of, _Why do you want to know who Eeyore is friends with?_

Lizzie rubs the sleep from her eyes and blinks blearily at her phone. _Darcy wants to thrwo a surprise prty for e._

 _Good Lord you must stop him,_ Kanga responds as Lizzie is brushing her teeth.

Lizzie bites down on her toothbrush in order to free up her other hand so she can shoot back, _hav u ever tried 2 stop Darc. Hes a freight train on a downhill trak with any idea like this._

It takes Kanga longer to reply to that, and it's not what Lizzie expects.

 _fine,_ Kanga texts. _But twenty quid says he fucks it up somehow_

Lizzie chokes on toothpaste. _I'm a bad influence on u_

Kanga's only response is a winking emoji that turns Lizzie on _way_ more than it should.

***

There are several problems with Ms. Georgiana Darcy.

Being her older brother, Darcy feels very strongly about these problems, specifically in how they relate to _him._

The first problem that Darcy has with his beloved sister is that she is by and large, _too_ delightful. Darcy can hardly take her _anywhere_ because whenever he does, everyone in the room loves her more than they like him and that simply will _not_ do. It will _not_.

Darcy has also found, in general, that if there's a single man anywhere near her vicinity they will inevitably gravitate toward her and, by the end of a single conversation with her, be ready to propose marriage. Georgiana is, in Darcy’s completely _unbiased_ opinion, far too kind for her own good, and he feels it’s his duty to casually trip any male that comes near her, as any good brother would do.

The one thing Darcy has never worried about, though, is Georgiana actually _liking_ somebody in return. He’s never seen her show anything but polite interest in anyone, and therefore has absolutely no idea what to do when he walks into Hundred-acre Wood coffee to find his beloved, darling little sister leaned up against the counter.

She is, by all appearances, _flirting_ with the person behind the counter, who is neither Darcy’s boyfriend of a year, or Lizzie’s girlfriend of six months like it usually is.

Darcy’s vision hyper focuses on the diminishing space between his sister and this _person_ and all he can do is say, “Who the fuck are _you?”_ rather indignantly.

Georgiana straightens and whirls to face him, her ebony hair sweeping around her shoulders in the kind of slow-motion arc more commonly seen in a shampoo commercial, before settling to frame her delicate features and the wide, dark eyes currently blinking innocently at Darcy. She frowns at him, her lips pursing in the same exact way their mother’s did whenever she was particularly disappointed with him, and says, “Honestly Darcy, you can’t just _say_ things like that. What if there had been a child in the room?”

“I’m Timothy,” the man behind the counter helpfully supplies, correctly assuming Darcy’s question was aimed at him. “But everyone calls me Tigger.”

What kind of bollocks name is fucking _Tigger._ “Excuse me?” Darcy asks instead, clinging to whatever dignity he has left in this absurd situation he’s found himself in, unexpectedly, on a Thursday afternoon.

All he wants is some coffee.

 _Tigger_ —Darcy will _never_ be able to take this man seriously, ever—smiles brightly at him and explains. “It’s like tiger, but with an extra g.”

He decides, right then and there, that _Tigger_ is the absolute _worst_. Darcy isn’t sure he hasn’t stepped into an alternate reality by accident, and briefly contemplates stepping outside the door and re-entering the shop, just in case that movie _Sliding Doors_ had been on to something.

“Tigger was just filling me in on everyone who works here, and also telling me about his recent travels,” Georgiana says, calmly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “He’s been all over the world.”

Darcy wouldn’t care if he’d been to the moon, he still wants to know why _Tigger_ is chatting up his younger sister. Which, now that he thinks about it, “Why are _you_ here?” he says, pointing an accusing finger at Georgiana. “Don’t you have classes today?”

Georgiana has the gall to roll her eyes at him—to his face!!!—and leans one hip against the counter. “Afternoon lectures were cancelled, and Lizzie asked me to get a list of Eeyore’s friends from Kanga.”

Of _course,_ this would all be Lizzie’s fault.

Darcy lets it go, however, in favor of turning on Tigger, who is looking far to comfortable next to his sister. “Since when do you work here?”

Tigger looks momentarily startled. “Oh, I don’t actually. But Win had a thing and Christopher asked me to fill in while Kanga picks up Rue from school.” He pauses, looking up at the ceiling momentarily. “I don’t actually know what Eeyore is doing. He’s usually always here.”

Darcy doesn’t tell him that Eeyore is currently napping on the couch in Darcy’s apartment. “Did you get the list, then?” He asks Georgiana, instead of dealing with Tigger. He literally _can’t_ right now with whatever the fuck Tigger is.

Georgiana picks up a piece of paper off the counter, her hand _unnecessarily_ brushing against Tigger’s as she does so and waves it at Darcy. “I’ve got it. Relax.” She puts it back down. “Don’t you have like, actual adult things to do?”

Darcy opens his mouth, then closes it, because she’s _right,_ he does have things to do and judging by the entirely _too_ innocent expression on Georgiana’s face she _knows_ it. Darcy narrows his eyes and points between Georgiana and Tigger. “Whatever is happening here, I don’t like it. Stop it.”

Georgiana raises a single, arched brow at him and smiles sweetly. Darcy immediately regrets teaching her how to raise an eyebrow when she was fourteen. “I don’t know what you mean, brother dearest.”

Darcy doesn’t have anything to say to that, and so with one last pointed glare at his younger sister, he turns and walks out of the shop, trying in vain to pretend like he hasn’t just lost whatever battle that was.

“Have a nice day!” Tigger chirps, right as Darcy walks out the door. Tigger is the fucking _worst._

He didn’t even get his coffee.

***

The thing about Tigger, at least as Georgiana sees it, is he’s _hilarious._

“Which is when I told them that despite being Japanese, I didn’t actually _know_ Japanese,” Tigger gasps out between helpless fits of giggles.

Georgiana curls up in her chair, breathless with laughter as Tigger concludes yet another story on his travels through Asia. He’s delightful, and so charismatic Georgiana can’t help but become enraptured by his stories. Ever since meeting him at the coffee shop a week ago when Lizzie asked her to get names of Eeyore’s friends she’s been looking forward to talking more with him and maybe taking him up on that date.

“So, how do you know Eeyore?” Tigger asks, once they’ve both regained their breath. They’re sitting on one of Darcy’s leather couches in his flat, talking while they wait for Eeyore to show up to his surprise party.

“Oh, he’s dating my brother, Darcy,” she explains, casually taking a sip of the truly excellent Chardonnay Lizzie must have snuck in past Darcy’s terrible taste in alcohol.

Tigger promptly spits out the water he’d been drinking. “He’s _what?”_

Georgiana raises an eyebrow, exactly the way Darcy taught her to back when she was fourteen. “Do you have a problem with my brother dating your friend?”

Tigger waves a hand in front of him as he wipes water off his face with a napkin. “No, not at all. I’m surprised _Eeyore_ is actually _dating_ someone. I’ve been gone for the better part of the year traveling, so this is a bit of a surprise.”

Georgiana frowns. “Did Eeyore not date?” In the year or so Eeyore and Darcy have been together it’s been _Darcy_ that can’t seem to get his head out of his ass in regards to dating. Eeyore has always been so calm in the relationship.

Tigger shrugs, shifting until his arm is resting along the back of the couch behind Georgiana’s shoulders. She crosses her legs the other way to disguise the way she shifts closer to Tigger on the couch.

“It’s not that he didn’t date as much as he could never be bothered to do it. He used to be so…apathetic.”

“I’m pretty sure he still is. He’s very chill.” She thinks for a moment. “But I think Darcy makes him a bit…more.”

Tigger nods in agreement and takes another sip of his water. “So, about that dinner.”

Georgiana hides her smile behind her glass of wine. “Yes?”

Tigger leans in, just a bit, and Georgiana can’t help but lean in too. Something about Tigger is magnetic and she’s helpless against it. Not that she’d fight it; she likes him way too much. “I suppose,” she murmurs. “You’ll have to take me somewhere fun, though.”

Tigger adopts an exaggerated thinking face. “I’m sure I can manage _something.”_

Georgiana is about to close the distance between them when Darcy, as he is known to do, forces himself into the non-existent space between them to say, “What’s going on here?”

Georgiana scowls at him as she’s forced to make room for him on the couch between her and Tigger. “Go away. Shouldn’t you be with your boyfriend?”

“Darcy!”

All three of them turn to see Lizzie approaching them with a slightly frazzled expression. “I’ve been looking for you for the last twenty minutes. Where on earth is Eeyore?”

Darcy, who had tensed at the call of his name—Lizzie always does that to Darcy and Georgiana _never_ gets tired of it—relaxes. “I don’t know. What time did you tell him to be here?”

Lizzie gapes at him. “Darcy, it was _your_ job to invite _your_ boyfriend to the party _you_ planned for him.”

Darcy opens his mouth, takes a breath, then closes his mouth. The room goes eerily quiet as everyone suddenly realizes that Fitzwilliam Darcy has fucked up once again.

“Darcy,” Lizzie begins so, so calmly. “You _did_ invite Eeyore, right?” she asks, like she’s hoping Darcy’s just been having her on this whole time.

The silence is profound as everybody realizes at the same exact moment that Darcy did not, in fact, invite Eeyore to his own party.

“Nobody panic,” Darcy says to the room at large, looking panicked. Nobody in the room looks anywhere remotely close to panicking except for Darcy.

Lizzie gives him an incredulous look. “I can’t believe you managed to fuck even _this_ up.”

“I can fix this,” Darcy says, pulling his phone out and typing away furiously at it.

Georgiana shares a single, knowing look with Tigger before they both erupt into giggles.

***

A week before Eeyore’s surprise party, Lizzie turns to Kanga and says, “I’m going to lose the bet, aren’t I?”

Kanga smiles and runs her fingers through Rue’s hair. He’s fallen asleep on her lap halfway through the movie they’re watching, curled up together on Lizzie’s couch. “Yeah, you are. He’s definitely going to fuck it up.”

“Damn it to hell.”

***

Nothing can hide the fact that Eeyore is clearly very late to his own party, once he does arrive. They all manage to offer an appropriately enthusiastic, if not slightly tipsy, “Surprise!” when he walks in.

Eeyore is _immediately_ suspicious after that.

Georgiana settles more firmly into the couch, finally snuggled into Tigger like she’s wanted to be all night, and watches Darcy try to explain why Robbie is _already_ drunk and having a heated argument with Professor Hibou about the merits and practicality of Philosophy.

“They’ve been here for a while,” Darcy says, and although he’s doing a good job of hiding it, he’s _clearly_ nervous. Georgiana, Lizzie and Eeyore are probably the only people in the room who can tell, which makes it _better._

Eeyore raises one eyebrow and gives Darcy a look so cold Georgiana’s teeth sting and it’s not even _directed_ at her. “Did you forget to tell me something, Fitzwilliam?”

Darcy immediately pales, and Georgiana would feel bad for him if she wasn’t enjoying how completely whipped he is for Eeyore.

Tigger sucks in a breath through his teeth, bringing his head closer to hers to whisper, “That was bad, wasn’t it?”

Georgiana nods, turning to whisper back, “The only times Eeyore ever uses his full name were when Darcy has _really_ fucked something up and he’s on thin ice.”

“Don’t objectify the ice like that,” Tigger says automatically, then, “Sorry, ignore that. Poor Darcy.”

Georgiana giggles and watches as Darcy tries, and fails, to explain himself to Eeyore. “It’s good for him. Eeyore is the best thing that’s happened to him, I think. There are very few people who are willing to put up with his particular brand of bullshit that aren’t like, _related_ to him.”

They turn their attention back to the rapidly devolving situation in front of them. “It’s not that I _forgot_ to tell you about this party, it’s just that—”

“He forgot,” Lizzie states bluntly, and without mercy.

Eeyore slowly turns to look at Darcy, and Georgiana swears the look he gives Darcy is probably one of the signs of the apocalypse.

 _“Choke,”_ Eeyore whispers, very furiously, and at the exact moment when Darcy takes a nervous sip of his wine.

The results, as Georgiana sees them, are _spectacular._

Darcy does, and then proceeds to cough for the next two minutes while Lizzie laughs at him and Eeyore watches on unsympathetically.

“Is it always like this?” Tigger asks, amused and concerned at once.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Georgiana affirms, resting her head on Tigger’s shoulder. Everything about him is warm and comfortable, and Georgiana is starting to feel like meeting him by chance in a coffee shop she’d be hard pressed to ever step foot in again is the best thing that’s happened to her.

“But you _love_ me,” Darcy is saying to a very unimpressed Eeyore.

Eeyore stands there with his arms crossed over his chest, staring flatly at Darcy for so long that it elicits a very small, very unsure, “Right?” from Darcy.

It’s so rare for Darcy to be anything other than confident in public that Lizzie does an actual double take at his question.

Eeyore stares at Darcy for a moment longer, then releases the most world-weary sigh Georgiana has ever heard. “I do, actually. I must be _insane,_ but I do.”

Darcy relaxes so suddenly that he sinks to the ground.

“Wow,” Lizzie says as the room slowly returns to a more normal state. “That just happened.”

 

 

“So,” Tigger begins as they’re walking to the metro stop outside Darcy’s flat, “when can I take you to dinner?”

Georgiana smiles and tangles their fingers together. “Tomorrow?”

Tigger’s smile is bright enough to outshine the sun. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> don't @ me i'm fragile


End file.
